I had hung up the skirt but I took it down and stepped into it. Theblouse was very tight and I couldn't button the top two buttons but itdidn't matter... Wrapping the pink sweater around my shoulders I went backdownstairs and sitting in the kitchen sat at the table and began to cry.I cried for Irene. I could guess the story. Forty years old, unattractiveand tossed by her husband for another woman. Maybe he had flaunted hisaffairs the way Moira did. Maybe she was dull, or not interested in sex.I. Monroehated how short his hair was although it was longer than most men hisage. Monroe's father would never let him have long hair so he wasconsigned to making the most feminine hair style he could muster withhis short brown locks.Monroe parted his hair off center and slicked his hair to side with gelleaving just a few strands covering his right eye as he crafted a boycut style that he accented with a grey, satin-ribbon headband withcrystal embellishments and his jeweled barrettes.Monroe smiled. More

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